St Richard and the Dragon
by Batwings79
Summary: After a long and arduous labor to deliver a new life into the world, Dr. Richard Clarkson hikes home through a dark and stormy night to find that he must now contend with a Dragon before he can get a peaceful night's sleep.


**_A/N: This one-shot was a result of an Imagine Your OTP prompt. I hope you enjoy it!_**

**_Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, they are only on loan from J. Fellowes and ITV until such time as his Lordship finishes the scripts for Series 5!_**

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The dull thud of my medical bag hitting the floor felt almost as leaden as my feet, trudging home through the rain and the mud and the dark of night. As leaden as my heart over having cancelled yet another dinner date with Isobel in favor of bringing another life into the world. It boggled the mind as to how babies always seemed to know when their appearance would be most inconvenient. Glancing at the clock to confirm that it was too late to telephone and apologize once more, my heart turned over, tickety-boo, at the sight of her coat hanging on the peg.

The sound of her heels on the wooden floor upstairs was almost soothing with a rhythmic staccato, reminiscent of the way she would march up and down between the rows of beds at the village hospital. Single-minded in her focus and yet sensitive and caring when it had been a long and arduous day. My first thoughts upon arriving on the doorstep had been of a scotch and a blazing fire to ease the cold and the ache but, first things first. Turning towards the sound of her crossing the hallway for a second time, my gaze fell upon the crystal tumbler filled with liquid amber, sitting atop the newel post at the foot of the stairs.

"You're beginning to know me too well, ma belle!"

Taking the steps two at a time to find the upper hall empty, the bedroom door stood ajar, allowing the soft firelight and the glow of an oil lamp to warm the woodwork. Sitting on the edge of the bed to toe off my shoes, the scotch began to work its magic creating a slight buzzing in the ears and drooping eyelids.

"Richard!"

Springing from the bed to run across the hall and fling the bathroom door open, the sight of her standing atop the lid of the toilet, holding tight to the chain with one hand and pointing wilding across the room with the other, was enough to spark a rush of adrenaline that wiped away the last vestiges of sleep.

"Isobel, whatever is the matter?"

"Th-there! In the bath!" The panic was apparent on her face and in her voice as she swayed back and forth. Moving towards the corner of the room where the cast iron tub stood on its large clawed feet and leaning over to peer into the bottom caused another hasty outburst, "Be careful, Richard! It might bite!"

Still unable to see anything untoward within the confines of the white porcelain lining, my voice remained calm in an effort to allay her fears, "What might bite, darling?"

"That huge, hairy monster! There in the tub!"

A sudden movement at the edge of the drain caught my attention and there, no bigger than my thumbnail, sat a common ordinary garden spider. Drawing a deep breath to keep from falling on the floor in laughter at my steely nerved nurse perched precariously upon the toilet, my hand moved down to scoop the creature out of the drain.

"Don't touch it! It might be poisonous!"

Unable to contain my mirth any longer, I spread my arms wide and placed myself firmly between the damsel in distress and her poisonous dragon. "Stand back, ma belle! I shall slay the beast!"

"You're making fun of me now," her voice was a soft whimper.

"I'm not, love, but you have to admit that it is rather amusing…"

"I don't have to admit anything!" she exclaimed and tried to stomp her foot petulantly but only managed to skim the outside edge of the lid before losing her balance and toppling forward into my arms.

"Isobel, sweetheart, are you alright?" My heart was lost to her all over again, feeling the softness of her hair rub against the bottom of my chin when she nodded. "Tell you what…why don't you change into your nightgown and slip into bed and I'll rid the bath of the _hairy beastie_?"

Looking down at the push of her hands against my chest, she leveled a glare that would have rivaled my own mother's. Tossing her head and turning on heel, the sway of her hips almost caused me to forget about the dragon sitting at the bottom of the tub. Chuckling to myself and opening the bathroom window, I watched the wee thing scuttled off into the darkness.

Stumbling in the darkened bedroom, my left foot caught in the hem of my trousers, almost causing a catastrophe but the sound of her muffled laughter as I fell over sideways was music to my ears. Sliding into the bed and spooning up behind, she almost took my nose off jerking the quilt up to give me the cold shoulder but she didn't scoot away. Whispering softly into her ear, "I have slain the mighty spider dragon and have come to collect the favor of my damsel in distress."

"This damsel is not certain that she is feeling up to granting any favors this evening…especially when her knight in shining armor chooses to tease instead of attending to her fears when she swoons into his arms..."

There was a definite hint of accusation in her voice and my lips began to tease the back of her neck in penance. "And here I was, thinking fair damsel might have a soft heart where this gallant knight was concerned."

Raised shoulder and jutting chin accompanied a tone of playful defiance, "And whatever would have given you that idea, sir knight?"

"The fact that you came all the way over here, in the pouring rain…you prepared me a healthy measure of scotch to warm my insides…and were about to prepare a hot bath to warm and soothe my outsides…until that awful beastie made his appearance…." Punctuating each phrase with a kiss and a caress, her soft sighs of response and the way she melted back against my chest were payment enough. Turning face to face, her warm brown eyes held mine with a playful gleam and a wry smile.

"I'm sorry, Richard. I guess it was rather foolish…the thing caught me by surprise and then you burst through the door…"

"And I'm sorry about that! I must have dozed off here on the bed and your screams startled me…"

"Yes, I'm sure that I was quite a sight! Perhaps the next time, I'll let you check the tub _before_ I try to run the bath!" Her soft kisses and gentle touches had blood rushing to other parts of my body causing my head to swim in a heady mixture of lust and need.

"And if you wait for me to return before running the bath, we might not ever make it into the tub!" my voice a ragged whisper as St. George's must have been when confronted with his own mighty dragon.

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**_ A/N2: In the story of St. George, it is told that a mighty dragon reared up from the lake to tower over the saint. Sometime during the 1880's, the phrase "playing at St. George" became a euphemism for having sex with the woman on top. _**


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